Session #26 – “Challenges, Trials & Tests” (part 3 of 4)
Anulem, the 28th of Ese - 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)
The days grew cooler, and Ra’s Glory was obscured by clouds at noontime as the Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland made their way to the appointed place where Timotheus Smith would duel with Floris Tenbrook. There was a crowd of townsfolk trailing them, and as they passed the tents where refugees were still crowded after the fire’s destruction, it swelled to twice its size to merge with some people already waiting there with Floris Tenbrook.
Word of the duel had spread quickly around town, aided both by Floris’ general reputation and Tim’s nightly carousing, playing up his origins as ‘a simple soldier’, and being free and easy with his coin, buying drinks and wooing ladies of questionable repute.
Victoria Ostrander of Anhur had joined her companions to watch over the proceedings and bless them in the name of her god, as her mother had headed back to Schiereiland earlier that same morning.
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The agreement had been made ahead of time that the two combatants would fight until one of them yielded and would try their best to avoid blows to the head or other vital areas, and Victoria reminded them of this as she called them over and had everyone bow their heads while she gave a prayer to
Anhur.
The opponents shook hands. “We shall be fighting with rapiers,” Floris said with a smile.
“Huh?” Timotheus was confused.
“I challenged you. You set the terms of defeat as whomever yielded first, and now I get to choose the weapons. I choose, rapier,” Floris explained.
Timotheus nodded.
“And remember,” Victoria said to Timotheus immediately after, as Floris looking a bit hungover, did some exaggerated stretches, as the crowd looked.. “How you acquit yourself will reflect on our entire band…”
“And remember there is no dishonor in yielding,” Telémahkos chided his cousin. “Don’t get yourself killed… Remember, you’re supposed to be protecting me!”
“Gee, thanks…” Timotheus looked sour.
“And you know I’d miss you, you lug!” Telémahkos gave Tim a playful slap on the chin. “I want you to be my second in my duel…”
“I always wanted to go to
Lilly City!” Timotheus cheered up. He stripped off his shirt, preferring to fight without any hindrances, and wanting to show off his well-muscled chest and arms. Telémahkos handed him his spare rapier after reminding him that honor in dueling generally refrained from either opponent using a magical weapon.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right…”
“Does not custom also dictate that you stand with Floris, since you are his second?” Bleys asked. As Timotheus’ second, the watch-mage was standing beside him.
“Oh yeah!” Telémahkos jogged over to Floris.
There was a murmur in the crowd. They were growing restless; someone was making a killing selling ladlefuls of sour beer from a cracked cask rescued from the fire.
“Shall we begin?” Floris asked. He was wearing his usual yellow billowy shirt, but his long hair was pulled back tight and tied in a close knot to his scalp. He had a large skin of wine and took a long slow sip, and then threw it over to Timotheus who did the same. Floris took one more short sip before passing it to Telémahkos to hold.
Timotheus raised his rapier in salute to Floris, and the swordsman returned the greeting with flair, his own blade humming in the air.
The two warriors came at each other. Timotheus bounding with heavy purpose, as Floris skipped in, moving rhythmically from side to side. He must have underestimated the brawny veteran of
House Briareus, because no sooner did their swords meet when Timotheus muscled forward, driving Floris off balance as the former’s blade punctured the latter’s neck and flicked off to the right, drawing a gout of blood. Only Floris’ quick leap back and hurried awkward parry kept Tim’s blade from puncturing his larynx and ending the duel with the first blow!
2 Floris danced back and his hand went reflexively to his neck, risking a peek at his now bloody off hand. Timotheus moved back as well, a look of concern on his face as he wiped a fleck of his opponent’s blood on his sweaty chest.
“Uh… I’m sorry…” Timotheus said, nearly dropping his guard. He raised his rapier in time to block a blow, but Floris was a practiced swordsman, and he used the momentum of his blade bouncing off Tim’s to riposte. Timotheus felt the flick of the blade across his fingers, drawing a painful welt. Again, acting with pure instinct, Timotheus drove his blade forward with great strength, and again, Floris could not keep the blow at bay. He jerked away as the blade sunk painfully into his shoulder. The yellow shirt grew a dirty brown as it absorbed blood.
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“Ready to give up yet, Briareus?” Floris mocked, and then winced from the pain. His blows were being easily blocked by Timotheus, but his own movement was pained. The crowd was hooting with animalistic excitement. Someone in the back of the crowd yelled, “Kill ‘im!” And it was echoed by a few other voices. A brawl began somewhere in the mix, and some of the town-watch began to drag away the drunken brawlers.
Timotheus stepped in again hoping that one more hard blow would end the fight, but this time, Floris danced and spun to his left and Timotheus felt the blade smack him across the belly and then back side, painfully. He turned around himself, having to step back to make room to defend himself against Floris’ quickening blade. “You’re as good as they say,” Timotheus complimented him.
“I know…” Floris replied with a wink, and then his sudden flurry of cuts and scratches forced Timotheus further back as he scrambled to defend himself. The crowd ebbed to give them room, as Bleys and Telémahkos made sure to keep close. Victoria and Laarus helped to hold the other side of the crowd back as they moved in, and Markos echoed every solid blow with a tittering laugh.
“Give up!” Floris demanded. There was an edge of nervousness in his voice that bloomed in a cough of blood he spat out. The momentum of the duel had turned his way, and Timotheus had countless little cuts and bruises, but those two hard blows Floris had received were making him flag as much as the heavy-footed Tim.
“Umm… Well, how about just a little more?” Timotheus gave a weary smile.
“Finish it, Tim! We’ll heal you!” Telémahkos cried out, letting the excitement of the fight carry him away.
“Hey!” Floris complained. “You’re supposed to be my second!”
“We’ll heal you, too!” Telémahkos replied sheepishly.
Encouraged by the crowd and his cousin, Timotheus came in aggressively again. Floris’ rapier danced around Tim’s, knocking it this way and that, until it moved wide enough for Floris to leap in and drag the thin sword back under Tim’s arm. He raised the basket-hilt of the rapier to block Tim’s heavy retaliatory blow, and then deftly flicked the point up under his opponent’s chin. Timotheus winced with pain and stumbled backward. He tried to raise his sword again, but fell to one knee, and then collapsed.
Floris raised his sword in the air and let out a yell of victory, and then almost fell over himself, but Telémahkos and someone from the crowd held him up.
“Someone had better help him,” Floris grumbled, gesturing to Timotheus with his chin.
Victoria of Anhur kneeled beside her bleeding companion and laid a hand on his forehead, calling to her god to heal him enough to keep him from dying. “Let him sleep off the rest of his wounds and bruises that he might contemplate the consequences of battle…”
“He acquitted himself very well,” Floris Tenbrook called to the crowd, gesturing to Tim. “So let me not hear even one voice say that Timotheus Briareus is not a good swordsman. He is at least half as good a swordsman as me!” There was polite applause from the crowd, but mostly it was already dispersing.
Telémahkos and Victoria carried Timotheus back to the inn, steadying him on a borrowed mule, but Floris protested. “You are my second! You must come with me immediately to celebrate my victory! You!” He pointed at a random townsperson walking by. “Help this fine militant bring her companion back to Death & Taxes, and be quick about it!” A moment later, Floris and Telémahkos were walking off through the crowd, with Bleys following. Laarus helped Victoria bring Timotheus home. “Did I win yet?” he murmured, rolling in and out of consciousness.
“Joining us, Bleys?” Floris Tenbrook asked the watch-mage. He leaned heavily on Telémahkos, who tried his best to look like he didn’t mind. “I did not think you were the revelry type… We’re going to a private party in honor of my victory that a friend arranged, knowing that I of course, would win…”
“I actually wanted to take the opportunity to ask you as I walked with you about the circumstances of
Barakis’ death,” Bleys replied. “There are conflicting stories about what happened, but most versions I’ve heard put you at the scene with him…”
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Floris Tenbrook took a long time to reply. He stopped and drained what was left of the wine in the skin Telémahkos carried for him. “Aye, I was there… At his side… It was a hard fight…”
“Where did it happen?” Bleys asked.
“On the Beach Road…”
“And whom or what were you fighting? Who else was there?” Bleys continued with his questions.
Floris face took on a pained look. “This is not a pleasant memory and now is a time for celebration, not mourning,” he said. “I am still sorely wounded from the fight with Timotheus… I would rather not talk about this now…”
“Very well…” Bleys replied.
“Speaking of Timotheus,” Floris said, turning to Telémahkos. “I have to admit, I underestimated his strength and prowess… That is quite a warrior you have among your ranks…”
“Well, he also underestimated you,” Telémahkos replied.
Bleys the Aubergine left them to their revels and made his way back to Death & Taxes, where Markos awaited him in the common of one of the suites to give the matter of access to Jakos’ tower one more try. The day before he had finally gotten a visit with Jakos, but the old wizard had been uncooperative, and a subsequent visit to the tower itself found it under guard by soldiers from
Havesting.
“Not now…” Bleys was dismissive.
“I just worry that some of the stuff in there may fall into the wrong hands,” Markos brought up a point he had made several times.
“
House Tenbrook shall determine what best to do with property and its contents in order to help fund reconstruction of the burnt part of the town,” Bleys explained.
“Yeah… right…” Markos smirked.
There was a knock on the door. It was a messenger from New Harbinger with a letter for Bleys from young
Lord Septimias Giaus Swann.
It read:
The messenger said he was returning to
New Harbinger at noon the next day and was a guest at Havesting, if the watch-mage wanted to send a message back with him. The watch-mage thanked him and tipped him.
“What is it?” Markos asked.
“Something has gone wrong with the negotiations with the lizardfolk,” Bleys said.
5 “Oroleniel has been arrested, but I cannot leave here until I have been replaced by the Academy.”
“We can go without you,” Markos suggested, but Bleys shook his head.
Isilem, the 9th of Keent - 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)
Late morning found Bleys and Timotheus walking back from some sword practice at the temple of Anhur. Victoria had joined them, but remained behind with her fellow militants, while her companions returned to Death & Taxes. As they approached the inn they noticed a wagon parked in front of Barakis’ house. It was full of bags and crates. The house door was open. A woman in bright purple watch-mage’s robes appeared at the door. She was petite, with short brown hair cut in a style very different from most Thricians, though her fair complexion did give away her Thrician origins. Bleys the Aubergine recognized her as
Laurie the Purple from reputation alone
“You must be Bleys the Aubergine,” She hurried forward and leaned forward for a kiss. “We have never had the
pleasure of meeting but I already feel like I know so much about you!”
“Well met…” Bleys replied.
“And who is this?” She looked over at Timotheus, and Bleys introduced him.
“Oh! One of the infamous Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland!” She tapped his forearm with a finger.
“Infamous?” Timotheus asked.
“Everyone knows you were involved in whatever happened in Kraken’s Cove,” she replied. “Now be a dear, and use those muscles for good and carry something into the house for me while I talk to Bleys here for a moment about some watch-mage business. And maybe later we can find another use of them…” She gave Timotheus a wink and he went and hefted a crate out of the wagon and lugged it into the house. Laurie took Bleys by the arm. She led him in a quick walk around the house, and explained that she had been sent to be the permanent replacement for Barakis the Bold. She was to be the new watch-mage of Sluetelot. She had him brief him about the state of the town and tell her what he knew of the fire, the recent plague of insomnia and Jakos’ experiments.
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By the time they came back around the front of the house, Tim had finished moving all her stuff inside. Laurie stepped over to him and gave him a peck on the cheek and led him by the arm to the garden gate as she continued to talk to Bleys.
“I shall tell the members of the council of your arrival should I see them,” Bleys said. “Darbold, Leisel, Floris…”
“Floris?” Laurie’s voice grew tight. “He is still in the watch-mage’s council here? I would have thought he would have taken his leave after Barakis died… Well, it matters not. I plan to dismiss him.”
“Can you do that?” Timotheus.
“Honey,” She winked. “I’m the watch-mage of Sluetelot. I can do whatever I want!” She slapped Timotheus on the rear end as they bid her goodbye and returned to the inn to clean up.
That evening, the young nobles had dinner together in one of the suites and discussed their plans and information. Tymon had returned from visiting his family in
Azure, and he informed them that his brothers were working on a detailed map of the area of the
King Stones and the route through the
Disputed Territories to the lands of the
Ray-Ree based on his sketches and notes. Timotheus showed off his recently completed heavy shield made from the hide of the landshark. It was designed to resemble the wedge-shaped head of the beast, with engraved eyes painted black, and encrusted with shards of the thing’s teeth. Telémahkos expressed his eagerness for his masterwork chain shirt to be completed in a few days.
7 Bleys informed the others that he was now free of his responsibility as interim watch-mage of Sluetelot, which now allowed them to travel as a group to Lilly City in order for Telémahkos to fight his duel against Danser Von Huet Blued.
“Which brings us to an important point,” Telémahkos said. “When we get to Lilly City and register at some inn we should not register as the Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland. We need a name that is better than that…”
“We should sign in as Timotheus Smith and his Mystery Men!” Timotheus laughed, but no one else did. The group fell into another long discussion regarding a name, with both Laarus and Victoria still being against the party naming themselves at all.
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…to be continued…
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Notes:
(1) While Victoria’s player was still not at this session, it just did not make sense that she would miss the duel.
(2) Timotheus scored a critical hit on his first blow, getting this result: Struck in Neck. Apply Crit Multiplier +1 to Damage Roll (and armor DP damage )– Fort Save (DC 10 + ½ damage) – Fort Save vs. Attack Roll (+15 to save if full helm) or Larynx Punctured, 1d4 bleeder, Die in CON rounds if not repaired. Luckily for Floris, he made his saving throw. Tim’s player also threw in an
action die towards the resulting damage.
(3) Timotheus scored a second critical hit on his second contact, getting this result: Apply Crit Multiplier +1 to Total Damage. Once again, Timotheus’ player threw in an action die to the damage.
(4) Bleys has asked several people about Barakis the Bold’s death, but most recently he had gotten this bit of information from
Cwell the Hawk.
(5)
Oroleniel the Salmon agreed to accompany Sir Septimias Benedict Swann to the Crossroads Bog to negotiate with the
Goldstraw Lizardfolk. (See Session #5)
(6) See Sessions #23 to #25
(7) The masterwork heavy shield made of the landshark hide grants an additional +2 enhancement bonus to armor class. The chain shirt would be forged to grant a +1 to armor class, and reduce the armor check penalty by 1. (See
Masterwork Weapons & Armor)
(8) The group has had many discussions about naming themselves with a great deal of disagreement (what a shocker!), both in and out of character.
